


It Will Never Be Enough

by MCRmyGeneral



Series: Blood [2]
Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blood Kink, Bloodplay, Blowjobs, Cheating, Frikey, Hand Kink, Jealousy, M/M, Nude Photos, Phone Sex, Revenge Era, Teasing, Warped Tour, lying, minor character injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-03
Updated: 2015-12-27
Packaged: 2018-05-04 17:52:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 19,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5343077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MCRmyGeneral/pseuds/MCRmyGeneral
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mikey and Frank are like any other couple; They joke and laugh and kiss and snuggle. Just one thing... Frank likes Mikey's blood. Mikey doesn't care; he loves the feeling of Frank licking the blood from his wounds.<br/>But all of the sudden, Frank is spending more and more time with Ray, and less and less time with Mikey. Mikey's the jealous type, so he needs his own companion. Enter Pete Wentz, Frank's least favorite person in the world.<br/>Pete doesn't hide his lust for Mikey, and when problems arise between the boyfriends, Pete strikes.<br/>Mikey and Frank fixed it once. Are they strong enough to fix it again?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the sequel to Gallons of the Stuff, but it can also be read alone. Enjoy!

"Everyone has that one person. That one person that they're too afraid to admit that they love. Do yourself a favor; go home tonight and tell them. Call them, text them, scale the side of their house and climb in their room while they're sleeping, hide in their car, I don't care if you have to burn that shit onto their front lawn! Make sure that they know that they're irreplaceable!" He waited a moment, letting the crowd roar and die back down again before continuing. "Ray!" he yelled.

"What?" the guitarist asked, surprise coloring his tone.

"I love you!" Gerard said to him. Ray blushed. Nobody expected him to say it back, but they all knew.

"Bobert?"

"The fuck do you want?" Bob called from behind his drum kit.

"I love you!"

"I know!" Bob yelled. The crowd laughed.

"Frankie?" Gerard asked. He didn't wait for an answer before he said, "I love you!"

"I love you, too," Frank answered, "But I'm still not getting your name tattooed on my ass, so quit asking!"

The crowd laughed harder. The best part was that they thought he was kidding.

Finally, Gerard walked over to Mikey, slinging his arm around his little brother's shoulders. "Mikey?"

"Yeah?" The younger Way asked, warily.

"Mikey, you're my baby brother. It's always been my job to watch over you, to protect you. I taught you how to walk, how to drink from a straw, and how to delete your internet history."

"Shut up! That's a lie!" Mikey argued, blushing and smiling.

"It's true," Frank chimed in from stage right, "He has no idea how to delete his internet history."

The crowd laughed again, and Mikey threw one of his picks at Frank, who stuck his tongue out at his boyfriend. Of course, nobody outside the band knew that they were together. Except for Pete Wentz. He and Mikey were such good friends it was almost impossible to keep it from him. In the end, Mikey'd managed to keep the secret for all of about 4 hours.

"Regardless of all your weirdness, Mikey, I still love you."

"I love you, too, Gerard."

The Way brothers hugged, and when they parted, Gerard nodded to Ray, who started the guitar intro to 'I'm Not Okay'.

~~~~

"Hey, Frankie," Mikey said as he entered the green room, shutting the door behind him. "Where are the others?"

"Hell if I know," Frank answered as Mikey walked past him, heading for the mirrors. "How's your back?"

Frank saw Mikey roll his eyes in the mirror. "It's been 6 months. My back is fine. It's completely healed, and you really need to stop asking about it, because as much as I love you, it's really getting annoying." He smiled at Frank in the mirror, and Frank stuck his tongue out at him again.

"Jesus, I was just wondering. Forgive me for being neighborly," he teased. Frank paused for a moment, locking eyes with Mikey in the mirror. The evil wheels in his head started turning, and he reached for Pansy, who was sitting on the couch next to him. He scooted to the edge of the couch, resting Pansy on his lap, and curling his fingers around her neck. He saw Mikey lick his lips as he watched, his eyes already hungry. Frank smirked, and started strumming 'Paint It, Black' by The rolling Stones as slowly as possible, his tattooed fingers finding all the right frets without even looking at the strings. He was staring at Mikey's eyes, though Mikey's eyes were darting back and forth between Frank's hands, not sure which one he was more enamored with.

When Frank finally caught Mikey's eye, he was practically drooling. Frank smirked and winked. He knew full well what this was doing to Mikey. For the 6 months they'd been together, he'd made it a habit of taking advantage of Mikey's hand kink in any way possible. Cracking his knuckles in front of him, putting his controller right in Mikey's line of sight, moving his hand up and down the neck of his guitar as slowly as possible, teasing him. He'd even did it on stage a few times, playing right in front of Mikey, putting his hands where Mikey couldn't look away even if he tried. He'd stay there for at least two songs. He should've felt bad, but he never did. Mikey's bass hid his inevitable erection. But Mikey always had his revenge.

Gerard walked in, and Frank sped up to the song's normal speed, making it seem like he was simply having fun. As aware as Frank was of Mikey's love of his hands, Gerard was as oblivious. When Gerard noticed the beat, he started bobbing his head and singing along.

"Good song," he commented as Frank finished with a few extra notes. Only when he put the guitar down did Mikey shake his head gently, as if coming out of a trance.

"Whatcha looking for?"

"Silver Sharpies," Gerard answered as he hauled Frank's overstuffed backpack on the table in the middle of the room and started digging through it.

"Side pocket," Frank directed. Gerard just plunged his hand in, scooping up everything and dumping it on the table. He grabbed the three or four silver Sharpies and left everything else there as he started walking back toward the door.

"Way," Frank said, and they both looked at him. He motioned at the pile of junk on the table.

"I'm in a hurry!"

"Come on, dude."

Gerard rolled his eyes as he walked back and started funneling it all back in the pocket.

"Gee, can I have that safety pin?" Mikey asked just before Gerard threw it back in. He handed it to him absentmindedly, and threw the last few eye shadow brushes in the pocket before zipping it back up and all but running back out the door. Thankfully, he closed it behind him.

"What's that for?" Frank asked.

Mikey opened the safety pin slowly, watching the sharp point glisten in the light.

"Mikes," Frank said.

"Oh, this?" He asked innocently, though Frank knew he was anything but innocent. "It's nothing."

Frank narrowed his eyes, and Mikey laughed in response.

"What? You can be a tease, but I can't? That's not very fair, Frankie. In fact, it's a wee bit," he winced, and Frank saw that the tip of the pin was now securely embedded in the tip of Mikey's index finger, "Hypocritical."

"Mikey?"

"Yes?" He purred, pulling the pin out of his flesh. A large drop of blood flooded out of the small hole. It almost dripped off the side of Mikey's finger. Frank noticed he had stood and took at least two steps closer unconsciously. It was as if Mikey's blood had a pull, which, it kinda did.

Mikey lifted the finger in front of his face, and Frank took another step. He was barely three feet from Mikey now. Mikey smiled and slowly, agonizingly slowly, brought the finger to his mouth. Frank thought he was gonna lick the drop from his finger, but instead, Mikey smeared it along his bottom lip, like he was applying lip gloss. The shade of red his lip turned was practically hypnotizing. Frank inhaled a shuddering breath and leaned forward, so close that he could smell the rust.

"Come on, Frankie. We both know you want it," Mikey whispered, and that was it. Frank grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him to him, pulling him into a rough kiss. Frank licked the blood from Mikey's mouth, moaning slightly at the taste. Mikey moaned, too, because this was one of the most intense kisses they'd ever shared. Frank connected their bodies at every point, the two fitting together like puzzle pieces, and he was surprised to feel Mikey's erection pushing against his own. It didn't take him long; he could get hard just from the smell of blood. Apparently Mikey's hand kink was just as intense, because he was achingly hard, also.

Frank was tempted to take care of them right then and there, in the unlocked green room with roadies and techs tearing down the stage and ushering the members onto the bus and planning the route to the next town all around them. Someone, anyone could rush in at any time and see them, and that's a shit ton of embarrassment that they didn't need. As often as they fucked in public or on the bus (and they did it quite frequently, despite what everyone else thought), they'd never been caught. And thank God for that, because that was a whole lot shit-talking and insults that would never stop.

Instead, Frank pulled himself away from Mikey with intense regret, and stepped back. It almost hurt to do so. He wanted to kiss Mikey until he no longer tasted of blood. So to compromise, he grabbed Mikey's still-bleeding finger and stuck it in his mouth, sucking on it as hard as he could until he couldn't taste the blood anymore. Mikey threw his head back and moaned low, like he was enjoying this as much as Frank was. Frank was sure that was impossible, because literally the only thing he loved more than the taste of Mikey's blood was Mikey himself. But actually, Mikey had grown to love the feeling of Frank's hot, tight mouth suctioned around whatever was bleeding at the time. Sometimes they were accidents, like Mikey picking at a hangnail, and sometimes the blood was from Frank digging into his skin with a razor blade (as much as Mikey had come to love when Frank cut him, Frank was always hesitant to do so, for Mikey's safety). But it always ended with  
Frank licking and sucking the blood from whatever wound had spouted it, and more often than not, them fucking. Because there was never a time when even the sight of Mikey's blood had failed to give Frank a hard, throbbing erection. Mikey took advantage of this knowledge as often as possible.

Frank ripped Mikey's finger from his mouth, trying to back away so quickly that he stumbled and fell on his ass. Mikey laughed, because Frank's face hadn't shown any trace of pain; it was still in nirvana.

"You okay, babe?" Mikey asked as he wiped the last tiny drip of blood and Frank's saliva from his finger.

Frank scrubbed his hands through what was left of the hair on the sides of his head, panting heavily. Mikey kneeled in front of him.

"You okay?" He repeated.

"Yeah. Just, holy fuck!"

"I know," Mikey said, biting his lip and walking his fingers up Frank's leg toward his crotch. Frank slapped his hand down over Mikey's, stopping it.

"Not now," He warned. Mikey stuck his bottom lip out in a pout, and Frank smiled. "Later. I promise. It's too risky right now."  
Mikey's eyes glowed at 'later', so he surrendered, and pulled his hand away.

Frank spied a leftover drop of blood on Mikey's lip, and leaned forward to quickly lick it away. He had barely sat back against the couch when Toro reinforced Frank's 'Too risky' point by barging in unannounced.

"Come on, guys. Bus call."

Frank smiled at Mikey, and the smile was all victory. Mikey rolled his eyes. Frank grabbed his backpack and followed Toro out the door, Mikey behind him like a row of ducks. Mikey pulled his arm back and smacked Frank's ass as hard as he could, making the tiny guitarist jump at least two feet in the air and howl in pain.

"Dude, you okay?" Toro asked, looking back at him.

Frank just nodded, blushing, while Mikey tried to hide his laughter.


	2. Chapter 2

The next night at the hotel, Mikey was shocked when Frank pecked him on the cheek and said 'Good night, babe' before running over to Toro, leaving him standing alone in the lobby.

"You okay, Mikes?" Gerard asked, setting a hand on his shoulder.

"Why is Frank staying with Ray tonight? I thought he'd be with me," He said sadly.

"Oh, lighten up, dude," Gerard groaned as he pushed Mikey into the elevator. Mikey saw Frank hug Ray, and he'd never seen a wider smile on his boyfriend's face.

"It's weird. We always room together."

"So? I know you're clingy, kid, but seriously. You guys need some time apart. You can't honestly like spending every waking moment with together. Eventually you'll get tired of each other. Let him hang out with Ray for a bit. It's good for you, too."

Mikey sighed and leaned against the elevator wall. "Yeah, I guess you're right." He didn't feel the need to add that he'd never get sick of Frank. Then something Gerard had said came to him. He jolted upright. "I'm not clingy! Who told you I was clingy? Did Frank say I was clingy?" The words tumbled out of his mouth in a blur.

"Uh..." Gerard trailed off guiltily. "I didn't... You know... Well..."

Mikey just glared at him.

"Frank's clingy, too!" he blurted out. "You're practically a match made in heaven," he muttered.

That broke the ice, and Mikey laughed as Gerard fumbled with the key.

"I hate you."

"You do not!" Mikey threw back at him. In a fit of 'inner 5-year old', he dropped his bag and hopped on Gerard's shoulders. He rode Gerard all the way to the beds, before Gerard, who was caught off-guard, stumbled and fell back on the bed, crushing Mikey.

"Ow! Fuck, get off me!"

"This is your fault!" Gerard laughed as he stood. "Since when did you become Frank 2.0? Since when do you climb on shit?"

"Not shit, just you!"

"Fuck off, Mikey."

~~~~

What the hell was that infernal buzzing? Mikey had only been asleep for three hours when it sounded like a bee had crawled into his skull. He sat up, and noticed that his phone was lit up. The buzzing was it vibrating.

_New Message_.

He slid the phone open and lay back down. The message was from Frank.

_you awake?_

**no** , Mikey typed, not even needing to look at the keyboard.

_did i wake you up?_

**yes, you asshole!**

_sorry. is gee awake?_

Mikey turned his head to look at Gerard. "Gee? Gee?" He whispered. "Gerard," He said in a normal speaking tone. Gerard didn't stir. He wasn't gonna wake up. Mikey knew that. He was in deep REM, because when Gerard slept, he was practically catatonic. When they were kids, their mother had to spray him in the face with water to wake him up for school. Otherwise, he'd fall back asleep as soon as she left the room.

**no**

There was no reply, until the phone vibrated in Mikey's hands. An incoming call from Frank.

"What?" he hissed.

"I'm sorry. I just wanted to hear your voice."

"You could hear me in person if you'd roomed with me tonight. Why did you go with Toro?"

"I have plans," Frank drawled. Mikey noticed that his voice wasn't hushed in the slightest.

"Speaking of the Fro, where is he?"

"He's got family in town; he's out with them. He said he won't be back until about 5."

Mikey glanced at the clock and saw that it was barely 2.

"So, what were your plans?"

Frank chuckled, which sent a half good, half bad shiver down Mikey's spine. It wasn't a real chuckle, it was laced with evil. Mikey had learned to avoid Frank's nefarious plans, because they were, more often than not, reckless, risky, and even though they were fun (like when he had suggested that the two of the sleep on top of the bus one night, which ended in the most mind-blowing sex Mikey had ever had), they were also usually dangerous.

"What are you wearing?" Frank asked, wearing his sex voice.

"Are you really trying to have phone sex right now?" Mikey asked in disbelief.

"Trade ya. An answer for an answer."

"Flannel pajama pants and my boxers. Are you really trying to have phone sex right now?" He tried and failed to keep the smile from his face and his voice.

"Sure. Why not?"

"How about because I'm not alone?"

"He won't wake up. We both know that. As long as you're quiet. But then again, I know how hard it is to keep you quiet."

Mikey moaned slightly, and unfortunately, Frank heard him.

"Getting turned on already, are we, Michael?"

Mikey debated for a moment, before he surrendered. "A little," He admitted.

Frank laughed and then gasped, a noise that made Mikey's half-hard cock twitch. Mikey identified the gasp; he guessed that Frank probably already had his hand down his pants.

"Don't you wanna know what I'm wearing?" Frank teased.

"What are you wearing?"

"Nothing," He whispered.

"You're lying."

There was no reply, until Mikey's phone vibrated against his cheek. A new picture message from Frank. He opened it and giggled.

Frank had gone 'teenage girl' on him, taking a picture in the mirror of his bathroom. It showed his bare chest, and went down just far enough to see that he was telling the truth; that he wasn't wearing pants, but it didn't show anything. Frank, you tease.

Mikey went back to the call, and heard Frank breathing heavily.

"You're fucking gorgeous, baby."

"Do you like it?"

"Probably more than I should."

"Well, there's more where that came from. Unless, of course, you're still opposed to phone sex. In which case, the 'End Call' button is right there." He knew how Frank would look; a smug smile on his face, probably chewing on his lip ring.

Mikey bit his lip, even though he knew Frank couldn't see it. "Not gonna happen."

Frank laughed.

"Frank?"

"Yeah?"

"I've never had phone sex before."

"You've lived a sheltered life, my love."

"Frank?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't know how."

Frank giggled. "Don't worry. I'll teach you. And I'll be sure to go slow, so you get the full experience. First, take your pants off. Or pull them down. Whichever floats your boat."

Mikey pulled his pajamas and boxers down around his knees. "Okay."

"Now do the same with your boxers."

"Already done."

"Ooh, quick learner. All right. Now, take your hand, and wrap it around your, what I'm guessing is already hard, dick."

Mikey happily obliged, and oh, how right Frank was. He was almost painfully hard, listening to the little moans and gasps that Frank was making. The first touch of skin on skin was so good that Mikey let out a guttural moan, and promptly slapped his hand over his mouth to keep from waking Gerard.

"Good, huh?" Frank purred.

"So good, Frank. Fuck. Now what?" He asked eagerly.

"Now, just slide your hand up and down, and listen to me."

Mikey obeyed and listened, and Frank indulged him, making some of the most obscene, dirty noises Mikey had ever heard.

"What are you doing?" He asked, almost breathless with arousal.

"Slowly running my hand up and down my hard cock, thinking of you. Your mouth, how tight and wet it is. How fucking amazing you are at sucking me off. How- oh, god- sweet and salty you taste when you're leaking into my mouth. How fucking tight you are and how good you feel clenched around my cock, and the noises you make. Oh, god the noises. You sound like a fucking porn star, Mikes. Don't fucking stop. Please."

Mikey hadn't noticed that during Frank's X-rated monologue, he'd started whimpering and moaning and making the exact noises Frank had been describing. His hand subconsciously moved even faster on his dick, and he was so close to coming already. Frank could hear it. He was familiar with the noises Mikey made just before he was about to climax. They were his favorite noises in the world. If he could make a CD of them, he'd never take his headphones out.

"Oh, God, Frankie. I'm so close. Why are you so good at this?"

"It's not hard. Just thinking of your hard body pushed against mine, skin sliding against each other, slick with sweat and blood." He moaned a little louder when he said blood, and Mikey knew that if there was a surefire way to give Frank an orgasm, it was to give him blood.

"Think about it, Frankie. The sweet, sticky bright red liquid heat. Just imagine the way it tastes sliding down your throat."

"Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. Oh, _fuck!_ "

There was a long, loud moan, and Mikey knew that Frank was coming in spurts all over his hand and probably his stomach. Mikey pictured Frank, his O-face, and the thick white that covered his hand right about now. But what pushed him over his own edge was the image of Frank's hand, squeezed tightly around the base of his thick cock, the veins protruding, the knuckles stretched taut, the tattoos glistening, covered in come. He didn't even realize he was coming until the first drop landed on his thigh. He kept his hand moving, moaning into the phone, and he could hear Frank's chant of, "Come for me, baby. Wanna see it, wanna taste it," rebounding through his skull. This was one of the most intense orgasms he'd ever had.

When he finally finished, he was panting. So was Frank.

"Jesus Christ, Frankie."

"I know, right. I knew this was a good idea."

"I'm exhausted. That was," He searched for a word, but they all seemed to come up short, "Amazing. Thank you."

"No problem. Get to bed, babe. We gotta get up in 5 hours."

Mikey glanced at the clock again, and it said 3:37. They'd been on the phone for over an hour. It seemed like 5 minutes.

"Okay. Good night. I love you, Frank."

"I love you, too, babe. Night."


	3. Chapter 3

When Mikey checked his phone the next morning, there was a text from Pete and a picture message from Frank. Naturally, Mikey replied to Pete first. Saved the best for last.

_MIKEY!!!!!! wat up, bro? u guyz gona be on the last leg of warped tomorow?_

Mikey smirked at his phone. He wasn't sure if Pete spelled like an idiot on purpose, or if he really didn't know better. Either was a possibility.

**yeah. why?**

_sweet! so are we! im gona come hang out with u guys. make sure its ok with the bigg G._

**i'm sure he won't mind. you know we always got an empty bunk for you. =)**

_fuck that. im sharing ur bunk with u. ;)_

**yeah, cuz Frank won't have any problem with that.**

_tell him shareing is careing!_

Mikey scoffed. Pete was really bad at this 'silent pining' thing. It was known by pretty much everyone that he was into Mikey. They were always joking around and flirting, and Pete always managed to keep things platonic, but he either didn't try to, or was just really bad at hiding that he loved Mikey.

**there are some thing Frank refuses to share. see you tomorrow!**

Mikey opened the message from Frank next. It contained three pictures. One was a full-frontal nude of Frank in the mirror, one was his hand wrapped around his erect cock, and the third was a picture of his face, mid-orgasm. Mikey knew the face all too well. He thought Frank never looked sexier. There was a message with the pictures. 'Forgot to send these last night. Love you. XOXO'

Mikey saved the photos.

~~~~

"Okay, boys! Onto the bus! We need to be in San Francisco in two hours! We've got a photo shoot! _Andale! Andale!_ ," Schecter yelled as he corralled the band members in the lobby.

"Coffee," Gerard said as he bee-lined for the coffee shop in the hotel. Brian grabbed the back of his jacket.

"No time."

"Coffee!" Gerard screeched, still trying to walk away as Schecter ground his heels into the carpet, still with a firm grip on his jacket.

"Come on! We'll stop at a gas station!"

Gerard scoffed. "Screw that! I'm not getting gas station coffee when there's a Starbucks three feet away!" He whined, reaching for the door to the coffee shop like it was his lifeline.

"Starbucks?" Mikey and Frank looked up at the same time, suddenly interested. They both ran to the coffee shop, knowing that Brian couldn't stop all of them.

Brian let go of Gerard, who also ran into the Starbucks. He crossed his arms in annoyance and glared at Ray. "They're all idiots."

"Agreed. But I would kill for a latte right now, so..." He trailed off, skittering after his band mates.

Schecter groaned.

"Hurry it up," He called after the boys. "And get me a Frappe!"

~~~~

Frank curled up on the couch with his head in Mikey's lap. Mikey ran a hand through Frank's hair.

"How'd you sleep last night?" He teased.

Frank sighed dreamily. "Fantastic. We need to do that more often. Although, it _is_ a lot more fun in person," He smiled, staring up at his boyfriend. Frank blew him a kiss, and Mikey blushed. Frank sat up, inching closer to Mikey until he was practically in his lap. He set a tattooed hand on Mikey's cheek.

"Your cheeks get so warm. I love it when you blush."

"Oh?" Mikey asked, leaning in. Frank met him in a sweet kiss.

As they parted, Ray came galloping onto the bus. He walked past the boys, grabbing at Frank's hoodie as he did so.

"Come on, Frankie."

"Bye!" Frank said as he hopped off the couch, running after Ray.

"Stop!" Mikey commanded, and both men stopped on a dime and turned to face him.

"Where are you going?"

"Studio," Frank answered.

"To do what?"

"Things."

Mikey narrowed his eyes. "What things?"

Frank decided that two could play at that game. "Guitarist things," He answered with a smirk and Mikey huffed.

Frank stepped forward and pecked Mikey on the lips. "I love you," He said, as if that made up for leaving him. Which, in Frank's mind, it did.

"I love you, too," Mikey said with a roll of his eyes, and Frank took it as a Go Ahead.

He and Toro turned and ran back to the studio together, both of them smiling as wide as they could.

Mikey sat back down and sipped his coffee.

~~~~

"Okay, so we need about four or five shots of the band as a whole, and then we're gonna do a separate article about the guitarists," The photographer told the band. His assistants grabbed various members, poking and prodding them where the photographer wanted. Bob was on the far left, then Mikey, Gerard was, as always, in the middle, and Frank and Ray were flanking Gerard. But it wasn't structured; everyone was kind of free to move about a little. Even though it wasn't his choice, Mikey was still a little miffed about Frank being by Ray and not him.

It was just like any other photo shoot the band had ever done before, but thankfully, no blood. Not only was blood done to death with them, but Mikey wasn't sure how Frank reacted to fake blood. And the last thing anyone wanted was a chubby showing in the pages of RockSound or Revolver.

The photographer took about a million and five pictures of the same facial expressions from a million and five different angles. Truth be told, Mikey never really liked photo shoots. He always felt awkward when posing, and the photographers were always so rude and snooty. They acted as if they were doing the artists a favor by taking a few pictures of trhem, as if their time was just _so_ valuable. And Mikey actually preferred the pictures snapped by fans. Sometimes the photo shooots they did were really fucking cool (like the ones they did a few months back where they dressed up as the Baseball Furies from one of his and Gerard's favorite movies from the seventies), but Mikey always liked the ones taken by fans better. The pictures captured at the barriers and behind venues and at merch tents. They always seemed to capture more emotion, whether it was Gerard singing of a fan breaking down in tears after finally meeting. But Schecter kept scheduling these asinine things, and Mikey was anything but difficult, so he always, albeit grudgingly, let the people poke and prod and conceal and line and hairspray the hell out of him, just for one good picture.

"Okay, thank you, boys!" The photographer finally called, a hand on his hip, "Now if you could vacate the scene, because I need the guitarists. Could someone go get their guitars?"

Mikey, Bob and Gerard sat to the side and watched the photo shoot. Ray and Frank high-fived, even though they weren't told to. The photographer had immaculate timing, because he managed to catch it with a picture.

"That's good, boys. I wanna see like, 'Best Friends'. I wanna look at the pictures and see the love, but it's gotta be natural."

Ray and Frank were just horsing around. Ray put Frank in a headlock, Frank climbed the leaning tower of Toro, and sat on his shoulders for a couple pictures. They were both smiling and they both looked like they were having the time of their lives. Mikey couldn't help the pang of jealousy that pierced his gut when Ray grabbed Frank's hands so he wouldn't fall. He saw how tightly Frank had gripped Ray.

An assistant came back with Pansy and Ray's guitar. They took a few pictures with their guitars over their shoulders and on their straps, and then they both sat cross-legged on the floor, and they were told to pick a song and play it. Before Ray could think, Frank was strumming out the melody to 'Wasted Years' by Iron Maiden.

Toro looked at him and smiled in admiration. Frank was just a great big ball of surprises, now wasn't he?

Frank looked smugly up from his guitar, and smiled back at Ray. Another picture was snapped. In all honesty, it was a Kodak moment if Mikey had ever seen one. It was like neither of them cared about the photographer.

Ray started playing the song too, and the last three pictures were of them playing in perfect synchronicity.

Mikey felt sick watching them. His gut said something bad was gonna happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> http:// galacticdestroyer.tumblr.com/post/9624219312/my-chemical-romance-dressed-up-as-the-furies-from
> 
> Pictures can be found here! For anyone wondering where it comes from, the movie is The Warriors, and it's been my favorite movie since I was six! I highly recommend giving it a watch!


	4. Chapter 4

The show that night wasn't anything special, in all honesty. Nothing eventful happened. Frank spent the majority of the show flailing around on the ground, and pretty much the rest of it over by Ray. And when the show was over, Frank offered to help Ray and the roadies tear down the stage. Toro always helped, because he was just a stand-up guy like that, but usually Frank snuck away in all the hustle and bustle for a quickie with Mikey.

However, Frank made up for it later, pulling him out a fire exit to a dark alley just 20 minutes before they were scheduled to leave. He pushed Mikey up against the hard brick of the building, pinning his wrists to the wall and ravishing him in a kiss that was all gnashing teeth. It was rough and intense and messy and a little painful, and Mikey loved it more than he should.

"Jesus, Frankie," He whispered. That was all he could do; he'd lost his breath.

Frank let out a small chuckle. He didn't know whose, but he was biting someone's lip. Mikey moaned, so Frank assumed it was his and bit a little harder. Mikey gasped when the skin broke and he could taste the blood flooding into his mouth. Frank licked at the wound greedily, moaning and gasping and making the most amazing noises.

He released Mikey's wrists, instead trailing his fingers down Mikey's bony chest toward his fly.

"Right now, Frank? We gotta go soon."

"I'll be quick," He said as he fell to his knees, and finished his work on Mikey's zipper. He pulled Mikey's jeans and boxers down a bit (which wasn't very easy, because they were practically skin-tight), and teased him by sucking on his hipbones. Mikey made the noises Frank lusted for, moaning and whimpering and whispering X-rated praise.

"Oh, fuck, Frankie. Why are you such a goddamn tease?"

Frank drew the tip of his tongue across Mikey's abdomen, and Mikey pushed his hips forward, basically telling Frank to get on with it. Frank grabbed Mikey's hips, pulled his jeans down enough to free his dick, and sucked a hickey right next to the base of his cock.

Mikey shuddered and threw his head from side to side.

"Oh my god, Frank! Please, please..."

"Fuck, I love hearing you beg, Mikes. You sound like fucking whore."

Mikey gasped, and exhaled a shuddering breath. "Please. Please, Frank. I need it. I need you. Oh, god! Please!"

Frank smiled as he opened his mouth, taking Mikey down as far as he could. The squeak Mikey let out was music. Frank licked up and down, knowing that Mikey was close already. He pulled off, licking the precome that had beaded on the tip, and licked stripe after stripe up Mikey's dick.

"Oh my god, Frank. Frankie, Frankie! _Oh, Frank!_ "

Mikey threw his head back against the brick, groaned once more, and that was it; he was coming down Frank's throat. Frank was patient, waiting until Mikey was empty and swallowing the entire load. He loved the way Mikey's come tasted. It was distinct, and it almost tasted like his blood. Mikey pushed Frank away, making him fall back on his ass. Mikey leaned over, his hands on his knees, panting heavily. Frank gently pushed him back against the wall, and tucked him back into his pants. He was careful, because he knew how sensitive Mikey got after an intense orgasm. But Mikey hissed at the touch, anyway.

"Oh, my god, Frank," He panted. He couldn't catch his breath.

"I know," Frank replied smugly, smacking his lips together, savoring the taste of Mikey on his lips.

Mikey got to his knees and crawled over to Frank, straddling him. He wrapped his arms around Frank's neck and kissed him sweetly.

"Thank you," he said against Frank's lips.

"Don't thank me. Just return the favor."

Mikey reached down to cup Frank's ridiculously hard erection, but Frank grabbed his hand.

"Not now. We gotta go. Later, okay?"

Mikey nodded, and they stood, walking inside just as Schecter was calling everyone to the buses.

"Come on! We still gotta stop and eat! Let's go! Let's go! Let's go!" He barked, slapping Frank's ass as he walked past. "Speed it up!"

~~~~

Practically the second they stepped on the bus, Frank ran to the studio with Ray. About an hour later, Mikey snuck back there, peeking his head in. Frank and Ray must've been sitting right next to each other, because they jumped apart when the door opened.

"Hey, Mikey. What's up?" Frank asked, and Mikey thought he looked nervous, like he was doing something he wasn't supposed to.

"Nothing," he said warily. "What are you guys doing?"

"Nothing," Frank and Ray said at the same time. They both smiled fake smiles that said 'You got what you wanted, now go away'.

"Okay, well, Brian said to tell that we're stopping to grab something to eat in a few minutes."

"Sweet! I'm starving," Ray said, and Frank chuckled.

Mikey walked away, and Frank practically sank to his hands and knees on the couch, his head between his shoulders. Ray ran his fingers through Frank's hair. "You okay?"

"No," Frank complained. "This is ridiculous, Ray. He's getting suspicious; I can tell. It's so hard to keep this from him."

"It'll get easier, I promise. Now, where were we?" He said with a smile. Ray's smile made Frank smile, and he slid back to his previous position, sitting right next to his fellow guitarist.

~~~~

They ended up stopping at a McDonald's which, naturally, had Frank pouting.

"There's nothing good here," He complained as he picked through his fries, trying to find crispy ones.

Somehow, they had managed to fit all five of them and Schecter into one booth. It wasn't exactly comfortable, but they'd fit into smaller spaces before.

"Why couldn't we go to a Subway?"

"You find me a 24-hour Subway on our route, Frank, and I will make sure we stop," Brian said as he sucked on his straw.

"I think you just bitch too much, Frank!" Bob said, shoveling a handful of fries in his mouth.

"Fuck you, Bryar. And can't you eat like a normal human?"

"What?" He mumbled, his mouth full of food.

"They don't have a very big vegetarian menu, but then again, most fast food places don't," Mikey added, licking a drop of hot mustard off his finger.

"Sure, defend your boyfriend," Bob muttered, and Frank smacked him in the back of the head.

Mikey smiled, and then threw a fry at Frank. "But to Bob's defense, you do bitch about food a lot."

Frank stuck his tongue out at Mikey, who smiled smugly. However, his smile faded when Ray reached across the table and wiped the salt from the fry off Frank's shirt.

Frank laughed. "Thanks, dude."

Mikey glowered for a second, until there were warm arms wrapped around his neck.

"Oh my god, I love you! Can I have your autograph?" The voice was falsetto and really fucking annoying.

He looked up and Pete was standing behind him.

"Dude!" Mikey yelled, standing up and giving Pete the biggest hug he could. Pete squeezed him back just as hard.

"What's up, brother?" He asked in his normal voice.

"Nothing. Sit down, dude."

Pete chose the best seat in the house; he plopped down on Mikey's lap and started eating his chicken nuggets. Mikey glanced at Frank, just in time to see him glare at Pete. Frank didn't exactly like Pete, because he was a little too handsy, but for Mikey's sake, he tolerated him. Mikey didn't really mind Pete's grabbiness. He was handsy with Gabe, Brendon and William, too.

"Where's everyone else?" Gerard asked.

"On our bus, on the way to Anaheim. Mikey said I could ride with you guys."

Frank coughed and gagged, and Bob slapped him on the back. Gerard thrust his soda at him like it was The Holy Grail, and Frank sucked it down. He coughed once more, and looked at Gerard. His face was bright red and there were tears in his eyes.

"Inhaled some salt," he said hoarsely.

Gerard and Ray chuckled.

"Is that okay with you guys?" Pete asked. He knew they didn't care; that the only one who didn't want him there was Frank. And Frank could suck it. Pete was in love with Mikey before he was.

"Whatever," Gerard said. "As long as Mikey promises to take you _outside_ when you need to go to the bathroom."

Pete looked at Mikey with a raised eyebrow.

"Of course I will," Mikey assured him, and Pete cheered and hugged him again. When he let go, he kept his left arm around Mikey's shoulders. He smiled triumphantly at Frank, who narrowed his eyes at him.

If there was one thing Pete loved doing, it was pissing off Frank. And Frank was well aware of it.

~~~~

When Mikey climbed into his bunk to go to sleep that night, he was pleasantly surprised that there was already a body in it. Unfortunately, it wasn't the body he wanted.

"Pete, what are you doing?"

"I told you I was sharing your bunk with you!" He said, laughing.

Mikey smiled. "Get the hell out of my bunk."

"Make me!"

Mikey took it as a challenge, and pulled him away from the wall, trying to push him out of the bunk. Somehow, Pete ended up on top of Mikey, which had them both laughing hysterically.

"Pete! I think you're severely overestimating the amount of free space in here. Get out!"

"I'm trying to! I think I'm stuck!"

"Ow! Pete!"

Pete tried to roll over so that he and Mikey were lying side by side, but unfortunately for him, an object in motion tends to stay in motion, and he rolled right out of Mikey's bunk. Unfortunately for Mikey, he still had a firm grip on Pete's hoodie, and went tumbling out with him.

"Jesus Christ, Mikey! You're literally the sharpest person I've ever met! Get the fuck off me!"

"First: Fuck you! Second: This is totally and completely your fault! Third: I'm trying, but you're on my arm!"

"Oh." Pete smiled and rolled off Mikey, who sprang to his feet and picked Pete off the ground.

"What are you idiots doing?" Ray asked.

They saw that both Ray and Frank had come out of the back studio to see what the ruckus was.

"Mikey likes it rough," Pete quipped, reaching over and yanking on Mikey's hair.

"Ow!" Mikey pushed Pete into the wall. "Remind me why we're friends?"

"Cause I'm sexy." He purred and wiggled his eyebrows.

"Oh my god, stop talking," Mikey commanded, shoving his hand in Pete's face. "He was in my bunk, and when he rolled out of it he took me with him."

"Why was he in your bunk?" Frank asked, clearly upset.

"Frank, he-"

"He invited me," Pete smirked.

"Hey, Pete? Why don't you go annoy someone else for a change?" Mikey asked angrily. But Pete saw the 'please' in his eyes.

"Sure," he said, hanging his head and walking into the front lounge. Ray took the hint too, slinking back into the studio.

"I'm sorry, Frank. We were joking the other day about sharing a bunk, and he was just being a tool."

Frank's face stayed stony. "Whatever. None of my business," he threw over his shoulder as he walked back into the studio.

Mikey sighed.


	5. Chapter 5

"Why would he even invite Pete along? I haven't made it a secret that I don't like him."

"You've been spending a lot of time with me lately. He probably just needed someone to hang with."

"Gerard and Bob aren't enough?"

"Frank, you're looking too much into this."

Frank sat up from where his head was rested on Ray's thigh.

"Mikey loves me, right?" He asked, and Ray saw the uncertainty and worry in his eyes.

He scoffed. "Of course he does! Why would you even think for a second that he doesn't?"

Frank grimaced. "I don't know. I just feel like ever since you and I started this, he's been pissed at me. Like he doesn't trust me."

"Frank, stop worrying. Mikey loves you, he trusts you, and you guys are gonna be fine. Okay?"

Frank nodded meekly.

"If you're that worried, next hotel night, share with him. We can take a night off."

Frank hugged Ray, which made the older man blush.

"Thanks, Ray. You always have an answer."

~~~~

Mikey checked his phone. It was a little after 4 am. Everyone was snoring, rocked asleep by the gentle movement of the bus. He knew now was the time.

He rolled out of his bunk, lithely hitting the ground so gracefully, it didn't make a sound. He didn't hear any movement as he lay on the floor and slid into Frank's bunk. He was sleeping, all tension was erased from his face, and his headphones were jammed in his ears. Mikey heard tinny sounds leaking from them, and guessed that it was probably Black Flag.

Mikey wiggled himself over to Frank, throwing a leg across him, and straddling his hips. He leaned down, gently kissing Frank's lips before he started sucking on his neck. Frank moaned gently, but didn't wake up. That is, until Mikey slid his hands under his shirt, ghosting his fingertips up his chest.

"Mmm..." Frank hummed as he tossed his head to the side, giving Mikey more neck to suck on.

"Wakey wakey, Frankie," he whispered before he kissed him again. Frank responded this time, parting his mouth and kissing back. He wrapped his fingers in Mikey's hair, not opening his eyes, until Mikey sat up and ground his ass against his crotch. Frank's eyes shot open and he gasped. He pulled his headphones from his ears.

"Jesus, Mikes. What a wake-up call," he giggled as he pulled Mikey down to kiss him again. Mikey smiled against his mouth. "What are you doing?"

"I never repaid the favor. So..." He trailed off, pawing at Frank's shirt. He took the hint, practically ripping it off. He went to wrap his fingers in Mikey's hair again, but he ended up hitting a rather large lump on the back of his head. Mikey hissed.

"What's that?"

"From earlier, in the alley. I hit my head on the wall."

"I'm sorry, babe."

"Don't be. It was worth it," he said, biting his lip. He went to slide down so he had access to Frank's groin, but Frank flipped them so that he was kneeling between Mikey's legs and Mikey was on his back.

"Frank?"

"Shh, shh, shh. Don't talk," he ordered as he slid Mikey's pajama pants off. Mikey wasn't wearing underwear, because he knew Frank preferred it. Frank kissed Mikey again, one hand supporting his weight, and the other reaching between them to close around Mikey's cock. A few simple movements and Mikey was hard. There was a moment of awkwardness as Frank searched for his lube (how he managed to make a 6x3 foot bunk such a mess, Mikey could spend hours speculating on), but once he found it, he pulled his own pajamas down and slicked himself up. He reached a hand in between them, but found that Mikey was already prepped. He had done it himself before he infiltrated Frank's bunk, instinctively knowing what the infiltration would lead to.

"You're ready. You little whore. You love touching yourself for me, don't you?"

Mikey smiled and nodded. He absolutely loved when Frank talked dirty, because the kid was New Jersey through and through, which meant he had the most ridiculous vocabulary of dirty, vulgar words and phrases.

"You're such a slut for me. If I told you I just wanted to sit back and watch you ride your fingers for me, you'd do it, wouldn't you?"

"Oh god, yes. Anything, Frankie."

"But I don't, cause I wanna feel you, clenched hard around my cock, moaning and whimpering and begging me to fuck you harder," he said as he lined up the tip of his cock with Mikey's entrance. "Are you ready, baby?"

"Yes, yes!" Mikey moaned, throwing his head from side to side. The tip of Frank's cock pushed slightly against him, and he gasped at the cold lube. "Do it, please, Frankie. Please."

That was all the encouragement Frank needed, and he pushed his entire length into Mikey in one swift movement. He clamped his hand over Mikey's mouth to keep the moan muffled. Frank waited until Mikey started squirming to start thrusting. He started slow, drawing almost all the way out and crept his way back in.

"Fuck, Frank. Goddamn, go faster. Faster, Frankie. Fuck!"

Frank obeyed, thrusting slightly faster and slightly harder. He loved to tease Mikey. He knew Mikey liked things rough; hard, fast fuckings, so he went as slow as possible to antagonize him. But he himself was getting fed up with his pace. He went faster, and Mikey gasped quietly with every push in.

"Louder, baby. I want everyone to hear us. I want every single person on this bus to know how much of a whore you are for me, and how much you love when I fuck you." Of course, he didn't, but it was all in the heat of the moment.

"Please, Frankie. Fuck me harder, faster. Fucking harder, Frank."

"Whose slut are you?" Frank teased, going even faster and harder. He knew Mikey would have bruises on his ass the next day. He always did. He treated them as victory wounds, and Frank loved the colors.

"I'm your slut, Frankie. Your fucking slut- Oh, _fuck!_ " He groaned when Frank finally sped up to the rhythm Mikey wanted.

"Touch yourself for me," he commanded, and Mikey happily obeyed, wrapping his hand around his cock and jacking himself in time with Frank's thrusts. Frank leaned forward slightly, and Mikey let out an animalistic moan, which meant that Frank had found his prostate. He kept up the pace, hitting Mikey's sweet spot with every thrust, and soon there was a constant slur of expletives flowing from Mikey's mouth. He stuck the hand not wrapped around his dick under Frank's blanket, and pulled out a box-cutter. He pushed it into Frank's hand, and offered up his own.

"Now, before I come," He demanded, and Frank knew what he wanted. He opened the box cutter and ran the blade over Mikey's palm, slicing it open and watching the blood come pouring out. He sucked at the wound, wiping it across his face.

The taste of blood sent Frank over the edge, emptying himself deep into Mikey. The sensation of Frank coming into him was what sent Mikey over the edge, and he shot himself all over his hand and Frank's stomach. Frank grabbed Mikey's hand and licked every drop of spunk from it.

Frank sat back on his heels, pulling out of Mikey with a pop that made them both break out in silent fits of laughter. Frank grabbed the shirt he had taken off earlier and haphazardly wiped the come from his stomach, then he redressed them both. He crawled out of the bunk and held his hand out for Mikey. Frank led him to the bathroom so he could clean and bandage the cut on his palm.

"Fuck, that's deep, Mikes. I'm sorry."

"I didn't even feel it."

"I think you might need stitches," he said, holding the still-steadily bleeding cut in front of his face and examining it from every angle. He looked at Mikey for permission, and when Mikey rolled his eyes and nodded, Frank ran his tongue up the cut, licking away the blood.

Mikey pulled it away. "If it's still bleeding tomorrow, we'll stop and see a doctor. I'm fine, Frank. I'm more worried about you; you look like a murderer."

"Why?" Frank asked, and looked at his reflection. Mikey's dried blood was smeared all over his face. He giggled. "I really do, don't I?"

Mikey wet a wad of toilet paper and wiped Frank's face clean.

There was an awkward moment between them, until Mikey broke it, leaning forward and wrapping one arm around his boyfriend, keeping the bleeding hand over the sink, and setting his head on Frank's tattooed chest.

"I love you."

"I love you, too, Mikes," He said, rubbing Mikey's bare back.

"I'm sorry about what happened with Pete. I really _was_ trying to push him outta my bunk, but he fell and he took me with him. I wasn't trying to upset you," he whispered.

Frank smiled, and kissed the top of Mikey's head. "I know you didn't do anything. It's just... Pete has no boundaries. He's always touching you and flirting with you and we all know he likes you. It's like he doesn't even care about me. He's disrespectful. And he's an asshole."

"That's just Pete. He's like that with all his friends. He knows we're together, he knows I love you, and trust me," he said, lifting his head just enough to look Frank in the eye, "Pete is nothing compared to you."

Frank pressed a soft kiss to Mikey's nose.

"Am I interrupting something?" a voice from the hall said. Mikey and Frank jumped, and Mikey stepped away from Frank. Frank noticed that the step that took Mikey farther from him brought him closer to Pete.

"No, of course not."

"Well," Pete said, running his hand through his hair and yawning, "Could you kindly vacate the bathroom? I have to piss like a racehorse."

Frank stepped around Mikey and out of the small bathroom. Mikey went to follow him, but Pete stopped him.

"What'd you do to your hand?" Pete grabbed it, and Frank balled his fists to keep from hitting something. He'd been so caught up in hugging Mikey that he'd forgotten to put a bandage on the cut.

"Oh, I, uh..." Mikey searched for an excuse, and came up short.

"There was a piece of broken glass in his bunk," Frank offered. "A picture frame, I think. That's what he sliced his hand on."

"Oh," Pete said, and Frank decided that he was either a really good actor, or he was genuinely concerned. The thought that Pete was worried about his friend scored him a 'Good Guy' point with Frank. The point was then immediately deducted when he pulled Mikey back into the bathroom.

"Let's put a bandage on that, before it gets infected." Pete started to close the door. "Good night, Frank," he said. Mikey blew him a kiss before the door closed, but when Frank looked at Pete, he was smirking, like he'd won.

It was at that very moment that Frank decided he really fucking hated Pete Wentz.


	6. Chapter 6

"It's still bleeding," Mikey whispered to Frank in the bathroom the next day. Frank's eyes widened.

"Still? How bad?"

Mikey pushed the sleeve of his oversized hoodie up his arm, and Frank saw that the bandage on the cut was stained red. Almost all of it.

"That's the third gauze pad it's bled through," Mikey said, and Frank saw that he was upset. He pushed the hair out of Mikey's eyes.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I just don't want you to feel guilty."

"I don't. Well, I do a little, but you'll be okay, right?" Mikey nodded. "And besides, you made me, so it's just as much your fault as mine."

Mikey scoffed. "Well, let's go tell Brian that we need to find an ER." Mikey turned to walk out the bathroom, but Frank pulled him back.

"Wait. Before we do that," He said, his eyes glistening with mischief, "We need to fabricate evidence!"

Mikey rolled his eyes as Frank went to find a picture frame to bust in Mikey's bunk.

~~~~

Mikey ended up needing 7 stitches to close the 2-inch long cut. Frank sat right next to him while the doctor sewed him up, squeezing his hand. Gerard would've done it, but he hated needles, to he opted to sit in the waiting room with everyone else. This was by no means the first time Mikey had gotten stitched, and it never got any easier. He hated that he could feel the suture thread dragging through his skin, he hated the smell of the antiseptic, and most of all, he hated the look of them after they were finished. But fortunately, the doctor told him to keep them covered with a sterile gauze pad. Unfortunately, the doctor also ordered that he let his hand rest for the two weeks it would take for the injury to heal.

"If it requires you stretching or overworking your hand at all, don't do it. That means no instruments, no writing, no tying your shoes, no video games, et cetera."

Mikey's face got more and more horrified with every word. "Uh, doc, I don't think you understand. I'm a _professional_ musician. I play bass for a living, and I'm on tour at the moment. I can't not play."

The doctor shook his head. "I don't think _you_ understand. If you exhaust that wound, there may be permanent nerve damage, plus, if it's not given proper healing time, it could take upwards of four months to heal."

Mikey groaned and threw his head back, digging his nails into Frank's palm.

"I swear to God, Mikey. You are the most accident-prone kid I've ever met."

"Bite me, Schecter. What are we gonna do if I can't play bass? Dewees isn't here!"

"We don't have any other roadies that can do it?" Gerard asked.

"Are you all idiots?" Bob piped up from the back of the room. "We've got a fully functioning bassist on our bus! Pete can do it."

Bob saw and ignored the burning look of hatred that Frank threw at him. "He knows most of your lines anyway. Just teach him the rest, and he'll be our bassist for a few weeks."

"Wh-" Frank scoffed, looking for any excuse to scrap that plan. However, everyone else smiled. Frank looked at Toro for backup, which made Mikey pull his hand out of Frank's. He didn't notice.

"Ray, help me out here!" He practically begged.

Ray shook his head. "I understand, Frank, but we have no choice. It's Pete or nothing. I'm sorry."

Frank crossed his arms and sank against the wall.

The doctor came back in with a prescription for antibiotics and sent Mikey on his way.

~~~~

It was a hotel night that night. Frank took Ray's advice, sharing with Mikey. Or well, he tried to, but he saw that Mikey was linked arm and arm with Pete, already heading towards an elevator. He walked around them, blocking their entrance to the elevator.

"Where you going?" He asked, making it obvious that the question was directed to Mikey.

"We're sharing a room tonight," Pete offered.

"I didn't ask you," Frank said, his voice acidic.

"Frank!" Mikey warned, slipping his arm out of Pete's, grabbing Frank's and pulling him aside. "If you're gonna detest Pete, can you do it silently, please? And I'm sharing with him tonight."

"But-"

"He's _my_ friend; I'm not gonna make him room with Gee or Bob. Plus I've gotta teach him my bass parts."

"But I-"

"And why do you even care?" Mikey asked, his voice suddenly icy. "You've ignored me for a month, sharing with Toro. Now that Pete's here, _now_ you wanna share?"

"First of all," Frank said, now also pissed, "He knew Bob before he even met you. And secondly, is this really the time to bring this up?"

"Good point. I'll see you in the morning." Mikey walked away, and Frank walked over to Ray.

"Toro, you already sharing with someone?"

"Nope. Why? You okay?" He asked, noticing that Frank's face was red with anger. Frank threw a look over his shoulder to Mikey and Pete.

"I'm fine."

~~~~

"So what comes after the solo?"

"Huh?" Mikey asked, looking at Pete. He was staring out the window, thinking of what he said to Frank.

"Bass. Music. Thank You For The Venom. Notes," Pete elaborated, smiling and shaking his bass.

"Oh," Mikey replied, shaking his head. "Sorry. I wasn't paying attention."

"I know," Pete said as he set his bass aside, moving to sit behind Mikey where he was perched on the corner of the bed closest to the door. He wrapped his arms around Mikey's chest, and Mikey sank back against him, exhausted. "Boy problems, right?"

Mikey nodded.

"I knew it. I can feel tension between you two. What's going on?" He asked softly.

Mikey sighed heavily. "I feel like he's been ignoring me lately. And he's been spending so much time with Ray. When we're on the bus, they lock themselves back in the studio, and we haven't shared a room together in like, a month and a half, and he's acting differently around Ray. They're acting like best friends, and I know that Ray's supposedly straight, but I can't shake this nagging feeling that him and Ray are..."

"Are what?"

"Together. Behind my back."

Pete sighed. "Do you want me to lie?"

Mikey shook his head.

"It's a possibility. I don't know. But I know that's not all. What else is going on?"

"He doesn't like you," Mikey stated, looking up at Pete.

He laughed. "Duh! I know he doesn't like me. Why?"

"Well, cause you're just an affectionate person. You hug me and we joke and flirt all the time."

Pete smirked. "What? Is he afraid of a little competition?"

Mikey sat up, and scooted away from Pete. "There's no competition, Pete. You better not be trying to come between me and Frank."

"No! Of course I'm not. Maybe I should just go back to my own bus. I don't wanna cause problems."

He hung his head, but only to hide his smile. He knew Mikey wouldn't let him leave. He also knew that eventually, if he kept up the smiles and the smirks and the winks at Frank, Frank would end things between him and Mikey. This would drive Mikey straight into his arms.

"No, I don't want you to leave. As long as you're not trying to be a pain on purpose," he smiled.

"Of course not. It's just in my DNA."

Mikey laughed and hugged Pete, who was already planning his next move in the Chess game that was Mikey and Frank's relationship.


	7. Chapter 7

Much to Mikey's disappointment, three days had passed, and Frank had said all of about 12 words to him, mostly "Excuse me," when he stepped around him. Not that Mikey was pining for Frank's attention. He was pissed, too. Frank didn't say anything to him, he didn't acknowledge him on stage, and he didn't even look at him when they were in the same room. As bad as it was for Frank and Mikey, it was making everyone else miserable, too. But they had made it to Warped, so everyone had the freedom to get out of the tension of the bus every once in a while. Gerard had pretty much taken refuge with Bert in The Used's bus. Ray was always stuck in the studio. Bob was blissfully ignorant, as usual.

"Bob, do you know where Mikey is?" Gerard asked one day when they were all standing backstage watching Taking Back Sunday play.

"In the bus, I think."

"I'll be back," He said, patting Bob on the back and going to find his brother.

"Mikes?" He called as he walked onto the bus. He heard gentle guitar strumming coming from the studio, so he crept back there to check it out. It wasn't anything complicated; it was hesitant and unsire, so he knew it was Mikey.

"Take your gloves and get out. Baby, get out while you can. When you go, would you even turn to say, 'I don't love you like I did yesterday'?"

Gerard felt a stabbing in his stomach. Was this how Mikey felt?

"Mikes?" He asked softly, pulling the door opened. Mikey practically threw the guitar from his lap, looking up at Gerard nervously.

"Hey, Gee. What's up?"

Gerard grabbed the paper that was on Mikey's lap, reading the lyrics scrawled on the page.

_Well, when you go_  
Don't ever think I'll make you try to stay  
And maybe when you get back  
I'll be off to find another way  
And after all this time that you still owe  
You're still the good-for-nothing I don't know  
So take your gloves and get out  
Better get out  
While you can  
When you go  
Would you even turn to say  
"I don't love you  
Like I did  
Yesterday"  
Sometimes I cry so hard from pleading  
So sick and tired of all the needless beating  
But baby when they knock you  
Down and out  
It's where you oughta stay  
And after all the blood that you still owe  
Another dollar's just another blow  
So fix your eyes and get up  
Better get up  
While you can  
When you go  
Would you even turn to say  
"I don't love you  
Like I did  
Yesterday"  
When you go  
Would you have the guts to say  
"I don't love you  
Like I loved you  
Yesterday" 

Mikey hung his head in embarrassment.

"They're good," Gerard whispered.

"Thanks," Mikey said, still not looking at Gerard.

"It's about Frank, right?"

Mikey shook his head, but Gerard saw a few tears fall on the couch. Mikey tried to rub them away before Gerard saw.

"What's going on between you two?"

"Nothing. No offense, but it's none of your business. I don't wanna drag everyone else into it, too. And as hard as you try, it's physically impossible for you to be unbiased."

Gerard sighed and thought about rebutting, but it was true. Even if Mikey was wrong, Gerard would take his side. They were family; it was law.

He hugged Mikey and left.

~~~~

Mikey was standing in the wings, watching Fall Out Boy's set one day when he felt a cold hand on the back of his neck. He shivered, and Frank's high giggle rebounded through his ears. Though he tried not to, he smiled softly. Frank's chuckle always made him smile.

"Hey, beautiful," Frank whispered in his ear.

"What do you want?" Mikey tried to sound angry, but he was still smiling.

"I need advice," He said, staying behind Mikey. "You see, I've got this boyfriend, and he's amazing. He's beautiful and smart and sweet and funny, and really talented. He plays bass in this crappy little band called My Chemical Romance; maybe you've heard of them."

"Once or twice," he played along, not turning to look at Frank.

"Well, I have this problem. He's got this friend who's really kind of annoying, so I've kinda been avoiding him lately. I feel terrible and I wanna apologize in a way that'll let him know that I love him more than anyone and that I'm really sorry for being a prick."

"Well, it sounds like he's been a dick lately, too. So I'm guessing that he's really sorry for putting his friend before you. I think if you just tell him you're sorry, he'll forgive you."

"That _would_ work, but I'm looking for something better. Like a big romantic gesture. Plus, between you and me," He stood on his tiptoes, whispering in Mikey's ear, "I'm trying to get laid, because I've been abstinent for like a week, and it's really grinding on my nerves. He's floating around here somewhere. What do you suggest?"

Mikey smiled. "Well, in that case, I'd just grab him from the crowd and lead him somewhere deserted, like, say an empty tour bus, and I'm pretty sure you can figure out where to go from there."

"Thanks," Frank said thoughtfully before he grabbed Mikey's hand and pulled him away from the stage and toward the buses.

They both ran eagerly, huge smiles on their faces.

The bus door hadn't even closed before they were pawing at each other, hand sliding under shirts, jeans being unzipped, hoodies being ripped off.

"I'm sorry, Mikes."

"Me, too," Mikey breathed against Frank's neck.

"Forgive me?"

"Shut up and fuck me," Mikey demanded, pushing Frank backwards and onto the couch in the front lounge.

"Here?" Frank asked.

"It's as good a place as any," Mikey answered, straddling Frank and grinding their erections together. Frank let out a loud moan, and Mikey laughed.

Mikey ripped Frank's shirt off, but that was as far as they got, because Pete walked onto the bus, stopping short in the entryway.

"Oh my god!" He yelled, covering his face. "I'm sorry!"

Frank rolled his eyes and groaned. Mikey laughed and dismounted Frank.

"It's okay. What's up?"

"Well," Pete said, walking into the lounge. "I know you've been talking for the past few days about really wanting to see Lostprophets. They're going on in 10 minutes, so I figured I'd come get you. I didn't know I was interrupting anything."

Mikey smiled a pleading smile at Frank, who waved his hand dismissively. "Go."

Mikey pecked him on the cheek. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" He turned to Pete. "I'm gonna change real quick, and we can go."

He grabbed some clothes and ran to the bathroom. Pete and Frank stood across the room from each other, both with their arms folded.

"Lostprophets?"

Pete smirked. "Yeah. Mikey's been wanting to see them forever. Of course, a boyfriend would know that," he said, cocking an eyebrow.

Frank let a breath out through his nose and closed the distance between them, sticking his face in Pete's.

"You listen to me, _Peter_. This little act? This best friend you're trying to play? It's tired. I know you're in love with Mikey. Everyone does. Even Mikey. He knows, and he's still with me. What does that tell you?"

"It tells me that he's making a big mistake. One I'll forgive him for when he's on his knees in front of me."

Frank grabbed Pete's arms and slammed him against the wall, rocking the entire bus.

"You think you're fucking funny? Listen, you little asshole, Mikey is my boyfriend. And if you think your presence is gonna change that, you're sorely mistaken. You can comfort him, joke with him, hug him, touch him all you want. We both know who owns his heart. And we both know who he wants. I am _not_ gonna give him just because you don't know when to quit."

Pete pushed Frank off him, stepping away from the wall. "You're right. He does want you, at the moment. But the blueprints are already laid out in my head. You don't have to give him up; I'll fight for him. I loved him before you ever did."

"That's bullshit. I've been in love with him for longer than you've known him. I'm warning you, Pete. Stay away from him. Mikey is mine."

"Go ahead and say that all you want. I think we both know that you won't have the luxury of saying that for very much longer."

Frank took another step back, and Mikey came out of the bathroom. He threw his dirty clothes in his bunk and went to kiss Frank good-bye. But Pete grabbed his hand and pulled him away before he could.

~~~~

Mikey spent most of the rest of the night wandering around the grounds with Pete. He was more than a little surprised when Pete pulled him into Fall Out Boy's empty bus.

"What's going on?"

Pete sighed. "Mikey, sit down. I need to talk to you."

_Oh, god,_ Mikey thought, _Don't bring this up again. Please don't say you love me. I really don't want things to get weird._

Mikey sat down on the couch, and Pete sat next to him.

"How would you describe Frank?"

Mikey gave Pete a puzzled look, but he thought about it anyway. "Well, you know him. He's sweet, and funny. He's kind and humble and modest and smart and passionate "

"There, passionate! He's passionate about a lot of things, right? Including you."

"Yes. Pete, what are you getting at?"

"You can safely say he's got a bit of a temper, does he not? Especially when it comes to you."

"No. I mean, he gets jealous, but tha-"

"Okay, never mind. Has Frank ever... hurt you?"

Mikey shook his head. "No. Why would you think that?"

Pete pulled something from his pocket and pushed it into Mikey's hand.

It was silver and cold. It was a boxcutter. Mikey opened it and saw that the blade was stained red.

"I found that in Frank's bunk, the morning after you cut your hand."

"Why were you in Frank's bunk?" Mikey asked, a little pissed.

"Gerard asked me to find a shirt for him. That's not the point. A bloody razor blade in your boyfriend's bunk. Your hand is mysteriously sliced open, and you couldn't give me a reason why."

He looked Mikey square in the eye. "Mikey, does Frank hurt you? Hit you, push you, anything?"

Mikey laughed. "No, Pete. I promise you."

Pete jumped from his seat. "Well, then tell me the truth, because this is just too big of a coincidence. What's really going on?"

Mikey sighed. If he didn't tell Pete the truth, he'd keep assuming that Frank was abusing him. "Okay, I'll tell you the truth. But you have to swear never to repeat it to anyone! Not Joe or Andy or Patrick or William or even Gabe! Nobody! This is between you and me! You can't even tell Frank I told you. Promise?"

Pete sat back down. "I promise."

Mikey sighed again.


	8. Chapter 8

"How was the set?" Frank asked when Mikey climbed into his bunk that night.

"It was awesome. We got to hang out with them afterwards; Ian is the shit! He's so funny."

"That's cool," Frank said, pulling Mikey against him and giving him a long, soft kiss.

"What did you do today?"

"Hung out with Ray, mostly. Nothing important."

Mikey laid his head on Frank's chest, and Frank ran his fingers through Mikey's hair, sending shivers down his spine.

"I'm sorry I bailed," Mikey whispered. He felt Frank's chest move with a silent chuckle.

"It's okay. But I expect you to make it up to me. Not now, but soon."

"Deal," Mikey said, kissing Frank's chest.

~~~~

"Ow! Fuck!" Mikey yelled, shaking his finger.

"What?" Rang four voices; Frank's, Pete's, Gerard's and Ray's. They were all sitting in the lounge, and Gerard had whined and poked Mikey until he finally got up and started cutting up an apple for him.

Mikey held his hand up, and Frank was momentarily hypnotized by the crimson bead on the tip of his index finger.

Pete was closest, so he got to Mikey before Frank could even stand.

"Way to go, dumbass," he said, looking at Mikey's finger.

"Fuck you," Mikey laughed.

"You see, Mikey, you are the reason why we can't have nice things!" Toro joked.

"Apparently, we need someone on 24/7 Mikey watch. Knives, picture frames, _guitar strings_ , anything with an edge on it is not allowed within 2 feet of Mikey anymore."

Mikey rolled his eyes. "Yeah, Gerard. Just sit there and make jokes while I'm bleeding to death. Pete, will you go grab me a Band-Aid?"

"No need," he said, taking advantage of the opportunity to piss off Frank again. He grabbed Mikey's hand and stuck the bleeding finger in his mouth, sucking on it. Frank went rigid, flaring his nostrils and biting his tongue in anger.

"Good as new," Pete said. He turned away from Mikey and smirked and winked at Frank, and that was it.

Frank exploded out of his seat, lunging at Pete. Ray was just as quick as he was, jumping up between them with a hand on either's chest to keep them separated.

"I swear to god, Pete! I've dealt with a lot of shit from you silently, but this is it! Keep your hands off my boyfriend! He doesn't love you, Pete! Get that through your thick skull!"

"Frank," Pete said, as innocently as he could. In reality, he was thrilled that Frank had reacted the way he did. "I wasn't trying to-"

"Bullshit you weren't! I know what you're trying to do, so just fucking stop it! I warned you once! This is the last time I'm gonna say this. Keep your grubby paws off Mikey! Let me break it down so even you can understand. Mikey. Is. Mine. If I ever see you lay another finger on him, I swear on the name of all that is holy, I will fucking maim you! Now fucking leave!"

Pete was a better actor than Frank thought, because he actually looked hurt, like Frank's anger wasn't justified.

"Sorry," He said as he hung his head, walking off the bus. Frank watched him leave.

"What the fuck, Frank?"

Frank turned around to see Mikey, red-faced and glaring at him.

"Mikey-"

"What is your problem? What the fuck did you just do?"

"Tell me you're not serious, Mikey!" He looked at Ray and Gerard, both wearing blank faces. "You can't tell me I'm the only one that notices the things Pete does! He's trying to break us up, Mikey!"

"No, he's not! He promised me he wasn't!"

"And what's a promise from Pete Wentz worth?"

"Don't you trust me?"

"Of cour-"

"Apparently you don't! Even if Pete was trying to break us up, I would never leave you for him! But let me force one thing through _your_ thick skull. I am not your property. Who the fuck are you to tell me who I can and can't be friends with? Who are you to tell my best friend that he can't ever touch me again?"

"Mikey, you know I didn't mean it like that."

"It sure sounded like you did! Frank, if you're gonna be this jealous, domineering asshole, than maybe its better I find out now." Mikey walked past him and toward the door. Frank grabbed Mikey's arm.

"Please don't go. Mikey, I didn't want you to go."

"Pete is my best friend, Frank. We're a package deal. You can't ask me to choose between you two. It's unfair."

He ripped his arm out of Frank's grip and walked off the bus.

"Mikey, please don't go," Frank whispered, tearing up.

"Jesus Christ, Frank!" Gerard yelled. Frank turned to look at him. "Again? What the fuck is wrong with you? Why do you always fuck things up?" He ran off the bus after Mikey and Pete.

"Fuck me," Frank whispered as he fell to the floor, curling his knees to his chest and setting his forehead on them. He was shaking with sobs. Ray knelt down next to him and rubbed his back.

"Calm down, Frankie. It's okay."

Frank threw himself at Ray. hugging him tightly and sobbing into his shoulder.

"Why do I always do this?"

"It's okay, Frankie."

They heard the door to the bus open, and Frank looked up, hoping (but not expecting) Mikey. Instead, it was a very confused-looking Bob. Frank could almost hear his heart shatter.


	9. Chapter 9

Three days later, Mikey still hadn't returned to My Chemical Romance's bus. He had been sleeping in Fall Out Boy's bus, spending the days with Pete.

Frank had locked himself in the studio to avoid the judging glares of Gerard. Ray stuck his head in every half hour, bringing Frank water and food, and just checking up on him. Frank felt like he was on suicide watch. He was blowing up Mikey's phone with texts, none of which were replied to, or, he guessed, even read.  
When his text alert finally went off, Frank almost squealed with joy. Then he moaned in pain when he saw that the sender wasn't Mikey, but Patrick Stump.

_listen, frank. i know I’m just a third party and this is in no way my business. but you might as well stop texting mikey. he took the battery out of his phone 6 hours ago. he didn't even read any of them. he and pete have been curled up in the back lounge brooding for three days. he's still really pissed. i understand just how annoying pete can be, but you really hurt mikey. give him some time to cool off._

**is he ok? he's eating and talking and shit?**

_yeah. we're making sure he's eating and taking the antibiotics for his hand. we're taking care of him._

**thanks, patrick. tell him i miss him.**

_i dont think hell listen, but ill try._

**thanks.**

~~~~

It had been a week when Frank decided he needed to take offensive action.

_where is he? and dont try to hold out on me, cuz ill find him anyway. it'll just take longer._

He sent the message to Patrick.

**i think it's still too soon.**

_patrick, im warning you! if you dont tell me, ill hunt you down and throttle you!_

**fine, but dont say i didnt warn you. hes in our bus with pete.**

_thank you._

~~~~

_franks coming looking for mikey._

Pete smiled at his phone. All the tumblers had fallen into place.

**u still outside? wen he gets here, let him in.**

_pete, what are you doing?_

Pete stuck his phone in his pocket, and shut the TV off.

"Hey!" Mikey protested, "She was just about to get eaten!"

Pete sighed. "Mikey, it's been a week. We need to talk about it."

Mikey grimaced and set the bowl of popcorn on the table.

"I can't believe him. It's like he doesn't even care that we've been friends for years. I never would've imagined he was capable of exploding on you like that. I'm sorry."

Pete scooted closer, right next to Mikey. "Don't apologize to me. I'm sorry for you. I'm not trying to counsel here, but, do you think you guys can fix this?"

Mikey shook his head. "I don't know. I know for a fact that I'm not choosing between you two. I just wanna let you know that if you had unleashed on Frank, you'd be in his position right now."

"I know. Forgive me if I'm overstepping my boundaries here, but I think you deserve better. I'm sorry, but you deserve a man that won't make decisions for you, someone who doesn't care who your friends are, someone that doesn't like slicing you open for his own sick, perverted pleasure."

Mikey looked up from the ground to look Pete in the eye. He knew what was coming. "Someone like you?" he asked.

Pete smiled. "Someone like me."

He was still pissed at Frank, and Pete was so close. Pete was there, and at that moment, Mikey actually wanted it. He leaned forward, eagerly meeting Pete halfway.

It was actually really nice. Pete's lips were soft, and they tasted like the popcorn salt. Mikey waited only a few seconds before he opened his mouth, and Pete did the same, moving his tongue slowly. Mikey hadn't made out with anyone in over a week, and Pete was really fucking good at it. He dragged one hand up Pete's arm and set it on his neck, the other wrapped in his hair. Pete did the same, one hand slipping in Mikey's hair, the other cupping his cheek.

They parted for a second, both needing to catch their breath, but they kept their foreheads together.

"Pete, I didn't mean t-"

"Shh. Let it happen, Mikey."

Mikey initiated another kiss, bringing his mouth back to Pete's, not hesitating to open it and invite Pete's tongue in. He was light-headed. He knew this was wrong. He knew he didn't love Pete. He knew he was still in love with Frank, and that technically, he was cheating on Frank right now. He wanted to pull away, but Pete felt amazing. He knew exactly how to move his tongue and his hands to make Mikey moan into his mouth. Though, admittedly, Pete wasn't as good a kisser as Frank, he was pretty fucking amazing.

They parted again, but Pete pulled Mikey back in for a short, sweet peck before he let him go. Frank used to do that; a sweet, chaste kiss after a long, lusty make out. It made him smile.

"Pete, I-"

There was a clatter, and Mikey and Pete both looked toward the doorway in time to see distinctive bleach blonde hair run off the bus.

"Fuck! Frank!" Mikey called after him, leaping out of his seat . He sighed when the bus door slammed and leaned against the doorframe. "Frank!" He groaned and knocked his head against the wall a few times.

Pete giggled behind him.

"Some people just can't take non-verbal hints. He needed a physical one."

Mikey's jaw dropped, and he turned to glare at Pete.

"You planned this?"

Pete smirked.

"You fucking dick!" He screamed, closing the distance between them, screaming in his face. "Why did you do that?"

"He deserved to know."

"Know _what_? Are you insane? I don't love you, and we're not together! Do you understand? I love Frank! There is _nothing_ you could do to make me love you! I never have, and I never will! Since _you_ can't take non-verbal hints, here's a verbal one! Get the fuck over me! I don't want you!"

Pete's smile faded.

"Frank was telling the truth. The whole time, you've been trying to drive us apart. This whole fucking time. I can't believe you. Frank was right," He said, walking away from Pete, "You are an asshole."

Mikey ran off the bus, searching the crowd for the tattoos and hair that were so distinct.

"Patrick! Where did Frank go?"

"He went towards MCR's bus. What did Pete do?"

"He's an asshole." Mikey walked away, running after Frank.

"I know!" Patrick called after him.

Mikey ran around the grounds for 15 minutes, finally finding Frank near Thursday's merch tent.

"Frank!"

Frank turned around, and stormed over to Mikey.

"What?" He roared.

"I'm sorry," Mikey said, breathless.

"Fuck that! Let me guess, you have an excuse for why I just saw you sucking face with Pete! God, is this what you've been doing the past week, while I've been swimming in a pool of guilt?"

"No! That was the first time we've _ever_ kissed, and I _can_ explain."

"You can try."

"I was pissed. I was upset. I'm sorry. But what do you expect? You've been more or less ignoring me for months, spending every waking moment with Toro. Pete was there, and he cared."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" A look of recognition fell on Frank's face. "Tell me you didn't think I was screwing around with Ray."

Mikey frowned, and Frank laughed sarcastically.

"Are you fucking serious? And you're ready to give me shit about not trusting _you_? I'm not fucking Toro."

Mikey crossed his arms. "Then what have you two been doing all this time?"

Smiling bitterly, Frank reached into his sweatshirt pocket and pulled out a CD case. "Did you know that Toro can play piano? He was helping me write something."

Mikey gasped for air. The wind had been knocked out of him.

"This is for you," Frank said angrily, pushing the CD into Mikey's chest as he walked past. Mikey grabbed it, and flipped it over.

'BLOOD' was written on the CD in black Sharpie. Underneath it was 'Mikey' with a small heart after the Y.


	10. Chapter 10

There was a song titled 'Blood' on the CD. Mikey opened the track in the Media Player, and heard piano notes, and Frank's high voice.

" _Well, they encourage your complete cooperation  
Send you roses when they think you need to smile  
I can't control myself because I don't know how  
And they love me for it, honestly, I'll be here for a while  
So give them blood, blood, gallons of the stuff  
Give them all that they can drink and it will never be enough  
So give them blood, blood, blood  
Grab a glass because there's going to be a flood  
A celebrated man amongst the gurneys  
They can fix me proper with a bit of luck  
The doctors and the nurses they adore me so  
But it's really quite alarming, cause I'm such an awful fuck!  
I gave you blood, blood, gallons of the stuff  
I gave you all that you can drink and it has never been enough  
I gave you blood, blood, blood  
I'm the kind of human wreckage that you love_!"

The tears started before the minute and 22 second song ended.

He had read all the signs wrong. Frank wasn't rooming with Ray because they were sleeping together, he was rooming with him because they were writing a song together. A song for Mikey. Who had just cheated on Frank with the person he hated most in the world. Before accusing Frank of cheating on him.

He had never felt like a bigger asshole.

~~~~

Frank had taken solace in The Used's bus, hanging out with Bert. He was chain-smoking, and not eating.

Pete didn't play for Mikey anymore. Instead they had asked Jeph from The Used to help out, and he was happy to.

Pete and Mikey hadn't spoken since the day they'd kissed, but Mikey had sent Patrick a text asking him to make sure that Pete knew that Mikey had deleted his number from his phone.

Everyone was tense, and Mikey had spent every night crying himself to sleep. Little did he know, Frank did the same.

Frank couldn't take it. He was still pissed, but he wanted to hug Mikey and kiss him and tell him that he was sorry and that if they just talked they could get past all this. So he decided to.

He hadn't been in MCR's bus in almost a week, but nothing had changed.

"Mikes?" He called softly, standing outside his bunk. He knocked on the wall. "Mikes, I know I'm probably the last person you wanna see right now. I know you're still probably pissed about me yelling at Pete. But, Mikes, I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you or upset you. I'm sorry I tried to make you choose between me and Pete. It was wrong of me, and I know it. I'm sorry I got so jealous, and I'm sorry I overreacted when I saw you and Pete. You can blame everything on me. Just say something, anything. Tell me to fuck off, tell me I'm stupid, tell me I'm a dick. Tell me I was wrong and that I fucked up and that I don't deserve you, because all those things are true. Just talk to me. Tell me you can forgive me. I don't wanna lose you, Mikes. You're the most amazing thing I've ever had. You're the very best part of my life. I love you, Mikey. Nothing will ever change that."

He sniffled, trying to keep the tears from spilling down his face.

"Frank?" A soft voice asked. But it wasn't coming from the bunk, and it wasn't Mikey's.

Frank turned to see Ray standing in the doorway to the studio.

"Hey, Toro," He whispered.

"What happened with you two?"

Frank exhaled. "He thought we were sleeping together."

"What?" Ray asked, red-faced and wide-eyed. "Did he really? Oh, shit, dude. I'm sorry."

Frank shook his head. "It's my fault. He hasn't spoken to me in days."

"So what are you doing here?" Ray asked, confused.

"I'm trying to apologize, but I don't think Mikey's listening."

The look that fell on Ray's face was complete heartbreak.

"What?"

"Gerard didn't tell you?"

"Tell me _what_?" Frank asked, and he felt his heart sink.

"No, Mikey's not listening to you," Ray said, walking to Mikey's bunk. He grabbed the curtain and threw it open. It was empty. No CD's, no clothes, no magazines, none of the usual junk that Mikey's bunk was stuffed with. Most importantly, no Mikey.

Frank gasped.

"Frank, Mikey left three days ago. He went back to Jersey."

~~~~

Gerard and Bert walked onto the bus laughing. But their laughter died down when they saw Frank sitting on the couch tying his shoes. He was had his backpack on his back. Sticking out of one of the pockets was a plane ticket. Gerard grabbed it.

"No, Frank."

Frank snatched at it, but Gerard held it over his head.

"Frank, leave him alone. He needs some time."

"Fuck you! I'm not gonna let him slip through my fingers! Not again! I lost him once; I'm not gonna sit idly by and lose him again."

"Frank, as the founder of this band, I am ordering you not to go after him," Gerard said, squaring his shoulders and using his 'big brother' voice.

Frank cocked an eyebrow and scoffed.

"Listen, Gerard. I don't know who the fuck you think you are, but you are not gonna keep us apart. You may be the founder of this band, but you have absolutely no authority over me. Now please give me back my ticket."

"No," Gerard said, defiantly. He smiled, until he felt the paper slip from his hand.

Bert handed the ticket back to Frank.

"Go," He said, stepping aside, giving Frank access to the door.

"Frank, if you leave-"

"What, Gee? What are you gonna do? Kick me out of band? Go ahead. Mikey's more important."

Frank ran out the door, and Gerard glared at Bert.

"Gerard, I know you think you have Mikey's best interests at heart, but I assure you, you don't. He wants Frank. And he won't be happy until he has him. Just let them work it out."

Gerard huffed, watching Frank through the window, weaving through the crowd.

"Frank," A familiar voice rang through his ears.

He stopped mid-step, turning on his heels and staring daggers at Pete.

"What the fuck do you want?"

"Aw, what happened? Couldn't handle the sight of your boyfriend all over me? Are you running away?"

"No, you cocksucker!" He screamed, stomping over to Pete and screaming in his face, "I'm trying to save my relationship, the one you tore apart."

"Oh, so it worked," He said, smiling. "Well, the next time you see Mikey, tell him when he realizes who he really wants, that I'll be waiting. I think we both know he'll choose the better man."

Frank chuckled sarcastically. He had taken just about all he could swallow from Pete Wentz, and he firmly applied his fist to Pete's nose, which sent him sprawling on his ass.

Everyone within a four foot radius stopped what they were doing and stared.

"Fuck! Goddamn, Frank!" Pete took his hands away from his nose, and saw that they were covered in blood. But this blood was Pete Wentz's. Frank was disgusted by the sight of it, something that had never happened before.

"You know," Frank said, squatting, "It's funny how you're not so smug anymore with a broken nose."

He turned and walked out of the fairgrounds, a smirk on his face.


	11. Chapter 11

The house was cold. It had been at least 7 months since he'd been here last. When he stepped through the door, he shivered. All the lights were off, and it only made him more depressed.

The first thing he did was put a pot of coffee on to brew. He sat in the kitchen, listening to it percolate. He left the lights off. It was a cloudy day in Jersey, and the light seeping through the blinds gave his whole apartment a grey tone. The color palate seemed incredibly fitting, considering how he felt.

He took his coffee and went to his bedroom, setting the cup on the nightstand. He climbed into bed, fully clothed and still wearing his shoes. He turned to face the wall, and the tears started before he even laid his head on the pillow. Leaving his coffee untouched, he cried silently. He wondered where Frank was.

What Mikey didn't know was that Frank was boarding a flight to Jersey at that moment, practically vibrating with anxiety. This was stupid, leaving his tour to run after Mikey. But as far as he was concerned, Mikey was the only thing that mattered. He wasn't about to just let him pull away. He'd made the mistake of hiding his feelings once, and it tore him apart. He couldn't let Mikey go on thinking he didn't love him anymore.

He spent the whole flight fidgeting. He was terrified. What if Mikey had moved on? What if ignoring him had played into Pete's plan? What if he actually _did_ want Pete, and _he_ was the one that drove Mikey to him? He felt the acid bubble in his stomach. At the rate he was going, he was gonna make himself sick. His palms were sweaty and he had chewed almost all the skin off his lip. He curled up in the seat like when he was a child, snuggling into his father's recliner, pulling his legs to his chest, and stared out the window.

It took every ounce of strength to not sprint straight from the gate through the doors and jump in the first cab he saw. He seriously considered it, but decided that taking that route probably would've left more than one innocent bystander, and probably himself, incapacitated. People just didn't move fast enough, and he didn't have the time to stop by the Emergency Room for a broken anything. Instead he summoned every bit of restraint he had, and he had a lot, having spent months watching Pete pawing at his boyfriend, and having spent even longer keeping himself from blurting the secret of 'Blood' to Mikey whenever they were alone. He wondered what Mikey had done with it.

What Frank didn't know was that Mikey hadn't given the CD peace since Frank had shoved it into his arms. He had burned the song onto his computer during his flight back to Jersey. He had synced it to his iPod immediately afterwards, keeping his headphones jammed in his ears, listening to the song on repeat the whole flight and the whole cab ride home.

Shortly after he laid down, he decided that the silence was too intense. He could hear the birds outside, and the sound was just too fucking cheery. He practically jumped out of bed, slamming his window shut, purposely scaring the birds off the power lines in front of his house. He fished the CD from his duffel, popping it into his CD player. He turned the volume down, lying back in his bed. As he curled up in the fetal position, Frank's high, melodic voice poured from the speakers of his stereo. The sound made him smile, even though the music made his tears start again. He grabbed one of his fluffy pillows, hugging it. He wished he had something better to hug, then gasped when he remembered he did.

Frank hadn't taken any of his belongings with him before leaving for The Used's bus. When he decided he wanted to go home, he had rummaged through Frank's bunk, searching for a keepsake to bring with him. He ended up with Frank's blue hoodie. Since he was skinnier than Frank, the hoodie hung off him a bit, but he didn't care. He held it to his nose, inhaling the scent that was so thoroughly Frank. It smelled like sweat, cigarettes, Frank's body spray, and pot. Frank hadn't smoked weed in a few years, but the thick, skunky smell still clung to some of his older clothes. He didn't mind; now he linked the smell to Frank. He curled up in Frank's sweatshirt, the tears coming a little slower now that he had a piece of Frank with him. He wondered if Frank knew it was gone.

What Mikey didn't know was that at that very second, Frank was tearing through his backpack looking for it. There were three seconds between Ray telling him Mikey had left and him packing to follow Mikey. He didn't really focus on what he was throwing in his backpack, but he was sure he had put his hoodie in there. It was his absolute favorite hoodie. How could he forget it? Frustrated, he threw his bag on the floor and scrubbed his hands over his face. He forgot that he was standing in the middle of the terminal, and everyone was staring at him.

Everything was wrong. He was pissed at himself, he was still angry with Mikey, he was annoyed with Gerard and he was fucking _livid_ at Pete. He wanted to go back to California and play the rest of his scheduled shows. He wanted to go find Pete and finish the maiming he'd promised him. He wanted to go to Mikey's house and apologize. He wanted to go home and lie in bed and sob over everything.

He hadn't even realized he was crying until the hot tears splashed on his shirt. He hurriedly wiped his face, remembering that there were hundreds of strange people watching this tattooed freak cry in the middle of the airport. Not that he really gave two shits what any of them thought. The only opinions he cared about were those of his band mates and best friends, and they wouldn't bat an eye at his breaking down in sobs in public. Still, he didn't want the cops or a psych ward called, so he picked up his backpack, and everything that had spilled out of it, and speed-walked to the nearest men's bathroom, where he sank to the floor in the handicapped stall and broke out in hysteric tears.

He wondered what Mikey was doing.

Mikey was curled in a ball on his bed, crying over his boyfriend, who he was terribly sorry for hurting.

He wondered what Frank was doing.

Frank was curled in a ball in a bathroom, crying over his boyfriend, who he still loved as much as ever.


	12. Chapter 12

What the fuck was digging into his hip? Mikey didn't know how long he'd been in that position, or when exactly he'd fallen asleep, but it was pitch black outside now.

He rolled onto his back, shoving his hand roughly in his pocket and closing it around whatever was trying to become a part of his anatomy. It was the battery to his phone. He smiled when he remembered that these were the jeans he was wearing when he took it out of his phone to shut up the texts from Frank. He frowned when he remembered that he had been ignoring Frank.

He thought about putting it back in his phone, and decided not to. He knew if he did, he'd have about seven thousand texts and missed calls from Gerard and their parents, wanting to know what happened and that Mikey had gotten home okay and if and when he was gonna come see them. He wasn't anywhere near in the mood for his family right now.

He sat up, looking around the darkened room. Frank's song was still playing. Mikey got up to shut it off, not wanting to warp the CD like he'd done with so many others. He laid the CD on its case, and grabbed his forgotten coffee, downing the entire cup in one swallow. He fought not to gag. He hated cold coffee that was supposed to be hot.

The house creaked, which made Mikey jump. He was anxious and nervous and he felt like he was gonna be sick. But he had felt like that for days. Each stair squeaked and groaned as Mikey walked down them. The sounds were so fitting. It sounded like the house was in pain, just like its owner. Mikey's knees got weak when he finally made it downstairs. He couldn't handle this ache in his chest. He didn't know if he and Frank were officially broken up, but if this was what it was gonna be like on a day to day basis, Mikey had no idea how he was gonna handle it. It felt like someone had cut out a vital organ and then told Mikey to carry on with his day. Without warning, he started hyperventilating, like he couldn't breathe without Frank.

He walked to the bathroom, splashing water as cold as he could handle on his face.

The doorbell rang, and he jumped again, dropping the towel he was drying his face with. It was probably his mom and dad. Thank god he'd left all the lights off. He wasn't in a conversational mood. If he ignored them, they'd go away eventually.

The doorbell rang again, followed by a hard, hurried knocking. That wasn't like his parents.

"Mikey?" A faint voice came from the front porch. He'd recognize that voice anywhere. It took Mikey's breath away. "Are you there?"

He ran to the door, fumbling over the locks and throwing it open.

Frank was there, one hand rubbing the back of his neck, like he always did when he was nervous.

Mikey inhaled deeply. He could breathe again.

Frank exhaled in relief. "You have it," he said, smiling gently.

Mikey was confused for a second, until he saw that Frank was shivering in just a T-shirt, because Mikey had stolen his hoodie.

He smiled sheepishly, crossing his arms. He wasn't ready to give it back, not until he knew where they stood in their relationship.

"Yeah. Sorry. I wanted..." He trailed off. "Sorry."

Frank chuckled softly. "It's okay. I thought I left it in Cali. I was gonna be really pissed."

As much as he hated to do this, Mikey had to say something. "Why are you here, Frank?"

Frank's face fell, like Mikey meant it in a hostile way.

"I didn't mean it in a bad way! I'm just a little surprised to see you."

"I figured you'd be. Can I come in?"

"Of course." Mikey stepped aside, letting Frank in, and closing and locking the door behind him.

The tension was ridiculous. Mikey had never felt this awkward around Frank before.

"Do you, do you wanna come upstairs? I'm assuming you wanna talk."

"Yes. To both statements."

Frank followed Mikey to his bedroom, trying to think of how to word what he was trying to say. This was gonna be painful.

Mikey flipped the light on as he entered the room. He blinked the light away, and sat on his bed. He expected Frank to follow him, but he was paused next to Mikey's desk. Mikey saw that he was holding the 'Blood' CD.

"Frank?"

He was smiling softly when he looked at Mikey. "You listened to it?"

Mikey decided not to lie. "Yeah. And I put it on my computer. And I synced it to my iPod. And I've had the CD on repeat for the past few hours."

Frank's smile got wider with every word. Mikey walked over to him, wrapping his arms around him tightly. Frank hugged him back.

"Thank you, Frankie. It's beautiful," he whispered.

"Thanks," Frank whispered back.

As much as Mikey was enjoying being back in Frank's arms, he didn't want to delude himself, so he stepped away.

Frank looked hurt.

"Frank, we need to talk."

Frank sighed. "I know." He grabbed Mikey's hand and led him to the bed, where they sat facing each other.

"I'll go first."

"No," Mikey said. "I will. I'm sorry. I'm an asshole, and I'm an idiot and I feel like shit. I'm sorry I didn't trust you. I should've known that you and Toro weren't doing anything. I should've trusted you, and I'm sorry I didn't."

"It's okay. I'm sure it seemed kinda weird. I wasn't trying to upset you. But I knew Gee wouldn't be able to keep a secret from you, so I needed Ray. I guess I _did_ ignore you for a while, and I'm so sorry. I wasn't trying to hurt you."

"I know. And looking back, I understand."

Frank squeezed Mikey's hand. "So that's that. Next order of business."

Mikey sighed. "You were right. Pete was trying to break us up. I'm so sorry I didn't see it before. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. Fuck, these past 2 weeks have just been royally fucked. Everything is my fault."

"Yeah," Frank said. "You suck."

Mikey scoffed and whacked Frank with a pillow. Frank giggled.

"I'm sorry for trying to make you choose between me and Pete. But knowing what we know now, I was in the right, so..." Frank smiled triumphantly.

Mikey rolled his eyes, then lowered them so he was looking at the bed. "I'm sorry for kissing Pete."

The noise Frank made told Mikey that he was still pissed about that.

"I could try to explain, but I don't think it would do any good. Just know that I've never regretted anything more. I wish I was stronger. I was just really upset with you at the time. Looking back, it wasn't justified. I had no reason to be upset, and you were right all along, and I just want you to know that I've never loved Pete Wentz. I don't even like him anymore. I deleted his number from my phone. I don't want to have anything to do with him ever again. And if I could, I'd kill him for making me hurt you."

When Mikey looked up, there was a sly smile on Frank's mouth.

"What?"

"I broke his nose before I left."

"Wh- but, how- what?" Mikey sputtered, laughing. "What did you do?"

"He said to tell you that when you decided you wanted the better man to tell him. So I punched him in the face, and kinda broke his nose."

Mikey couldn't help the huge grin that spread across his face.

"Know, Frank, that I would _never_ choose Pete over you. He has absolutely no appeal to me. I love _you_ and no amount of meddling from Pete could change that."

"You mean... You still love me?"

Frank's face was vulnerable, like a child. Mikey had never seen him look younger.

"Of course. Frank, you're the most amazing person I've ever met. You're everything I've ever wanted and so much more. I'm yours, 100%. You better get used to it, cause you're never getting rid of me."

Frank grabbed the back of Mikey's neck, pulling him in for a long, heated kiss.

"I'd never want to. I love you, Mikey. Don't ever leave me again."

Mikey pressed a kiss to Frank's bitten and chapped lips.

"Never."


	13. Chapter 13

"Yes. Two. One second. _Mikey!_ " Frank yelled down the stairs.

"What?"

"First class or Coach?"

"I don't care!" Mikey called as he walked up the stairs. He kicked the door open and set the coffee on the nightstand.

"First class. Why not? The record company's paying for it."

Mikey giggled and climbed into bed behind Frank, wrapping his arms around Frank's bare chest. He kissed the jack-o-lantern's mouth.

"All righty. Thank you." He hung up the phone. "The next flight out to Anaheim leaves tomorrow morning at 9."

"We should call Gerard."

"Hell, no! I'm annoyed at him."

"Why?" Mikey asked, laying his head on Frank's shoulder blade.

"He _ordered_ me not to come after you."

"What?" Mikey laughed.

"Yeah. He held my ticket hostage and everything. I think he even threatened to kick me out of the band. But I told him I didn't care; that I'd rather have you. So Bert gave me my ticket back and I left."

"I'm more important to you than the band?" Mikey asked softly.

Frank twisted in his grip so they were facing each other. "Of course. I mean, I guess that sounds bad. But I'd rather be working at a body shop, living on Lucky Charms and mac and cheese. As long as I still had you."

Mikey kissed the tip of Frank's nose. "That's sweet. But it'll never come to that. If Gerard wants you out of the band, which I know he doesn't, I'm going with."

"I wouldn't let you do that."

"Gerard would never try to _actually_ kick you out anyway, so this conversation is completely hypothetical."

Mikey noticed that Frank was staring into space.

"Frank? You okay?"

"Yeah, but now I want Lucky Charms.”

Mikey scoffed. "You're such a child; I love it."

"I love _you_ ," Frank said, kissing Mikey's neck. Mikey moaned slightly, and Frank wrapped his arms around him, pulling him against his chest.

"Right now, Frank? The coffee's gonna get cold."

Frank pulled away with a disbelieving look on his face. "Really, Mikey? You'd _really_ rather have coffee than have me right now?"

Mikey smiled. "No, not really," he whispered as he leaned in to kiss Frank.

"It was so hard to keep my hands off you last night," Frank whispered.

"So why did you?"

"I think it was too soon."

"You're not very good at this make-up sex thing, Frankie."

"Teach me," Frank purred, and Mikey moaned again.

Frank lay down, and pulled Mikey on top of him. Mikey slid his hands from Frank's face, down his chest and his sides, and Frank giggled.

"That tickles, Mikes," He mumbled, not wanting to take his lips off Mikey's.

"Sorry," Mikey smiled. He finished what he was trying to do, sliding his hands under the waistband of Frank's pajama pants and boxers. He kissed a line from Frank's mouth down his neck and chest, and Frank threw his head back when Mikey finally reached his pelvis. He slowly slid Frank's pants and boxers off, throwing them on the floor. Frank was hard, and, Mikey was pleasantly surprised to see, already leaking precome.

Mikey wrapped his lips around the tip of Frank's cock, sucking gently at the head.

Frank's toes curled, and his eyes slipped closed. He had forgotten just how talented Mikey was with his mouth, and it had been weeks since he'd last gotten laid. With Mikey moaning around his cock, he wasn't gonna last long.

He softly pushed Mikey off.

"Stop," he said, already panting.

"What?" Mikey asked innocently, drawing one finger up and down Frank's length. He shivered.

"Come here." Mikey crawled back up so he was face to face with Frank, and Frank kissed him before flipping, so that Mikey was on his back, with Frank between his legs.

Frank mouthed and sucked on Mikey's hipbones (he always made it a point to. They were sharp and stuck out so far that they practically begged for attention) as he slid Mikey's pants off. They joined his own on the floor.

Mikey giggled and gasped as Frank sucked hickeys onto Mikey's hips. When he was satisfied with the shade of purple they were, he brought his mouth back up to his boyfriend's, kissing him eagerly.

"Lube?" Frank breathed against Mikey's mouth.

"Are you serious? Why would I have lube? Up until 7 or 8 months ago, I didn't have a boyfriend. And I don't exactly bring home random strangers for one night stands very often."

Frank laughed. "Well, I didn't bring any."

"Maybe not consciously, but how many hidden pockets are on that backpack? You're telling me there's not lube in any of them?"

Frank smiled and hopped off the bed, digging through all the secret compartments until he finally closed his hand around a bottle. He held it in the air triumphantly.

"A-ha!"

Mikey giggled at him. "Get back over here."

Frank happily obliged, hopping back on the bed and landing between Mikey's legs.

He covered his fingers and slowly, carefully stretched Mikey open for him.

"Holy shit!"

"What?" Frank asked, worried.

"That is freezing!"

Frank smiled slyly.

"Frank? What are you- Frank!"

Frank tipped the bottle over, drizzling the cold liquid over Mikey's chest and stomach.

Mikey laughed and shivered. "You are such an asshole!"

"Sticks and stones," He said, wiping a hand through the drizzle on Mikey's stomach, partly so he could slick himself up, and partly to annoy Mikey.

When he was lubed and Mikey was stretched, he pushed in, making Mikey practically howl.

"Oh, my god! You feel so good, Frank! It's been way too damn long!"

"You're telling me," Frank said, rolling his hips, eliciting a gasp from Mikey.

"Don't tease me, Frank. It's been so long. Just go, please."

"What's that, Mikes? You wanna be fucked hard? Fast?"

"Yes! Fuck me, Frank."

"Jesus, Mikes," Frank exhaled, speeding up the pace that both he and Mikey loved. "I forgot how fucking tight you are. You fucking amazing you feel."

"Fuck! Fuck, harder! _Oh,_ right there! Faster!"

Frank assumed he'd hit Mikey's prostate, so he did just as Mikey told him, moving his hips as fast as he could.

"Oh, God, Frank. You're so good. I'm so close. I'm gonna come!"

"Me, too, Mikes. Fuck, fuck, _fuck!_ "

Frank wrapped a hand around Mikey's hard cock, jacking him with his every thrust.

The gasping and panting reached a crescendo, and they both came hard at the same time, moaning each other's name.

Frank didn't even bother wiping the come from his chest and stomach, he simply pulled out of Mikey and lay down next to him. Mikey rolled over, draping himself across Frank's chest.

"That's disgusting, Mikes. You're literally lying in a pool of your own come."

"I'll shower later."

Frank chuckled and kissed the top of Mikey's head.

~~~~

Frank and Mikey walked into the fairgrounds hand in hand, not caring who saw them. It was after hours, anyway. All the fans were gone.

They were greeted with hugs and high-fives from their friends. Mikey and Frank were well-known and well-liked, so when they both walked in smiling, everyone was relieved.

When they walked past Fall Out Boy's bus, Patrick and Andy gave Mikey hugs, and Patrick shook Frank's hand.

"Mikey," a familiar voice came from behind him.

Mikey and Frank both turned to see Pete standing hipshot, a butterfly bandage on his nose, half his face covered in beautiful purples and blacks.

Mikey tried to keep from smiling, but the chuckles came anyway.

"What do you want, Pete?" He asked.

"I'm sorry," he said, and he actually looked sorry.

Mikey and Frank both chuckled sarcastically.

"Well, we fixed it, so..." Mikey explained.

"Are... Can we still be friends?"

"I don't know," Mikey replied honestly. He looked at Frank, and Frank raised an eyebrow, as if saying 'It's your decision'. "I guess we can try. It might take a while for me to trust you again."

"I can handle that. You're a good friend. I don't wanna lose you."

Mikey saw an arm wrap around Pete's waist, and he saw that the arm belonged to Gabe Saporta.

"Gabe?" Mikey asked in disbelief.

Pete smiled, and Gabe nodded. "What's up, Mikey? Hey, Frank. Come on, Pete. Travie's meeting us over by our bus."

Pete waved to Mikey and Frank, and walked away hand in hand with Gabe.

"I guess he's over you."

"That is just the weirdest pairing," Mikey said.

"Are you kidding? They're perfect for each other. Let's go."

They walked on the bus together. Toro was sitting in the front lounge reading a magazine. When the door opened, he looked up. When he saw who it was, he jumped up from the couch.

"Oh, my god! Thank god you're back!" He yelled, pulling Mikey and Frank into a hug. He released them, and his eyes were wide. "He has not come out of that studio since you left, Frank. He's written 5 new songs! _Gerard! Bob!_ " he called.

Bob rolled out of his bunk. "Hey, girls. How are we?"

Mikey rolled his eyes, slinging an arm around Frank's waist. "We're great."

Gerard came out of the studio and ran straight to Mikey, hugging him tightly. He released him, and did the same with Frank.

"I'm so glad you're back! I have this amazing idea for the new album! Sit down, all of you. You all need to hear this."

They all sat on the couch, Frank and Mikey still had their fingers linked.

"Picture this: A parade... that's death. My idea is that the album will be like a rock opera, following this war veteran through his life. And when he dies, death comes as his fondest memory, in the form of a parade he saw with his dad when he was a kid."

Everyone smiled and nodded. It was a really good idea.

"Just imagine it! We could wear army jackets and I'll cut and dye my hair."

“ _You’re_ gonna cut your hair?” Frank asked with a raised eyebrow, and Gerard shook his head enthusiastically.

"That's an awesome idea," Mikey said, which pretty much summed up everyone's thoughts. "On one condition," Mikey said, grabbing his bag and pulling a CD case from it. "This makes it on the record." He held the copy of 'Blood' out to Gerard. Once Frank realized what it was, he grabbed at it, but Mikey held it away, and Gerard took it.

"'Blood'. What's this?"

"It's a song Frank and Ray wrote. I think you'll like it."

"Sweet."

"So? What's the album name?" Bob asked, eager.

Gerard paused a second for dramatic effect.

"The Black Parade."

Smiles spread across each boy's face.


End file.
